One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

After saying this, Nie Lingfeng turned and left the room, leaving Lu Linglong alone staring blankly at the three manuals.

The door closed softly with a click, the latch springing back into the door frame. The footsteps in the hallway gradually faded away, first the thud of footsteps on the wooden floor, then the creak of footsteps on the stairs, and then disappeared.

She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the three booklets for a long time.

At this moment, Lu Linglong looked at the manual in front of her, her heart unable to calm down for a long time.

Of course she knew the value of these three manuals. Although she didn't know how capable Nie Lingfeng really was, just looking at how he could transform her with a single drop of blood during the day—that drop of golden-red blood, that oppressive aura that froze the entire room, and Zhang Lingyu's words, "So many people would beg for this," she knew that her newly sworn master was definitely not an ordinary person.

How bad could the techniques a person who can transform someone with just a drop of blood be?

Her fingers gently stroked the cover of "Bing Xin Jue". The paper was rough, the kind of handmade Xuan paper, with slightly yellowed edges and a faint scent of ink.

"Ice Heart Technique... Wind God Leg... Cloud Dispelling Palm..."

She picked up the book "Bing Xin Jue" and opened it to the first page.

The first sentence that catches the eye is—

"If the heart is pure as ice, one will not be alarmed even if the sky falls. One remains calm amidst all changes, and one's spirit is serene and tranquil."

Sixteen characters, arranged vertically, from right to left.

The handwriting is neat and strong, each stroke showing care. The ink has dried completely, presenting a deep black on the rice paper, with subtle smudging at the edges.

Lu Linglong's gaze fell on the sixteen characters. At first, she just looked at them, but as she looked, she unconsciously read them aloud.

"If the heart is pure as ice, one will not be alarmed even if the sky falls. One remains calm amidst all changes, and one's spirit is serene and tranquil."

The voice was very soft, so soft that only she could hear it.

But as she read those sixteen characters aloud, she felt a refreshing coolness wash over her. It wasn't from the wind; the windows were closed. The coolness seeped from between the lines, emanating from the ink, like a piece of ice placed before you—you could feel its chill even before you touched it.

It instantly calmed her restless mind. It was like adding a ladle of cold water to a pot of boiling water; the bubbles decreased, the churning subsided, and the surface gradually became calm.

"Amazing..." Lu Linglong murmured.

She had this feeling after just one glance at the formula.

If one were to actually cultivate it, wouldn't the effect be...?

She grew more and more excited as she thought about it, and the blood in her body seemed to heat up. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and evenly, then inhaled again, exhaled again, and repeated this several times to slow her heartbeat.

Then, simply sit cross-legged, pull the pillow behind you, and fold the blanket into a square to place behind your lower back.

Following the incantation in the manual, I began to try to cultivate the Ice Heart Technique.

At first, she didn't quite get it.

She couldn't calm down. A jumble of thoughts kept swirling in her mind, like a swarm of wasps whose nest had been disturbed, buzzing around her consciousness—the scene of the battle during the day, the disgusting tongue of the disease, her own berserk state when she lost control, the strange and frightening power surging from within her, the golden-red light of the drop of blood Nie Lingfeng fed her, and the rare smile on his lips when he said, "From today onwards, you are my eldest disciple, Nie Lingfeng's eldest disciple."

Scenes flashed before her eyes, making her feel agitated. She closed her eyes and opened them again, opened them and closed them again, changing positions three times, but no matter how she sat, she was uncomfortable.

But she did not give up.

She silently recited the mantra over and over again. "If the heart is pure as ice, one will not be alarmed even if the sky falls," she said, and her heartbeat slowed down a little each time she recited it; "Amidst all changes, remain calm and composed," she said, and her breathing became more even each time she recited it.

Sixteen characters, repeated over and over, like a simple song playing on a loop.

Try to clear your mind. Don't think about the day's events, don't think about tomorrow's events, don't think about anything that frightens you. Just think about these few words. Like wiping a mirror, wipe it again and again, removing the dust bit by bit.

Gradually, she felt a cool current rising from her dantian.

The flow of energy didn't feel like real air; it was more like a sensation—starting from the abdomen, like a thin thread drawn from the dantian, flowing slowly along the meridians. It wasn't fast, like a stream flowing through the mountains, skirting around rocks and sliding down steep slopes.

Wherever it passed, the previously restless blood and qi seemed to be soothed and gradually calmed down. The magma-like heat that had been surging within her body cooled down and slowed its flow under the cool wash, no longer impacting her meridians.

Her breathing became even and long. When she inhaled, the cool air rose; when she exhaled, the cool air descended. Rising and falling, rising and falling, like a small boat gently rocking on a calm lake.

My heartbeat also calmed down, changing from a rapid "thump-thump-thump" to a steady "thump-thump-thump," each beat strong but not hurried.

I entered a state of unprecedented tranquility. It was as if I were standing on a calm lake, but beneath my feet was ice, not water. There was no wind, no waves, only an endless, transparent, hard, and smooth expanse of ice. The sunlight shone down from above, warm but not glaring.

I don't know how long I stood there. Maybe an hour, maybe longer.

Her consciousness lingered on that ice surface for a long time, so long that she forgot she was still cultivating.

When she opened her eyes again, the sky outside the window was already beginning to lighten.

It wasn't brighter, it was "whitish". The thick black had turned into a diluted ink color, and there was a faint, grayish-white light on the distant horizon, as if someone had lit a lamp at the other end of the horizon.

"Is it dawn?"

Lu Linglong was stunned. She felt like she had just closed her eyes not long ago, how could it be dawn in the blink of an eye? She glanced at the oil lamp on the table, the wick had burned down a bit, and the oil was less than half gone.

But she soon discovered that she was not tired at all; on the contrary, she was full of energy. Her eyes were clear, her mind was as clear as if she had just washed her face with cold water, and a new, light energy was slowly flowing through her body.

My mind is clearer than ever before. Things I couldn't understand before, I can understand now; formulas I couldn't remember before, now come to mind word for word.

The Qi within my body is also more condensed and smoother than before, as if it has become purer after a night of settling. If the Qi before was a glass of murky water, then the Qi now is a glass of clear water that has been left to stand overnight—the impurities have sunk to the bottom, and the surface is clear and transparent.

"Is this the effect of the Ice Heart Technique? It's amazing!"

Lu Linglong jumped out of bed excitedly, pulling the blanket to the floor and causing the pillow to slip off her back, but she didn't care.

He clenched his fists, his eyes gleamed, and his mouth stretched to his ears.

He couldn't wait to find Nie Lingfeng and tell him about his cultivation achievements.

But she stopped just as she reached the door, her hand already on the doorknob.

His finger remained on the doorknob, but he didn't turn it.

The doorknob was made of brass, smooth and slightly cool to the touch, having been touched by countless hands. Her palms were warm, and she could feel the heat transferring through them as she pressed them against the metal.

"No, no, Master said that cultivation must be done step by step, and one cannot be impatient for quick results."

She patted her cheeks, the sound of her palms hitting her cheeks making two "smack, smack" sounds. Her cheeks were hot, and her palms were hot too. She used this method to calm herself down.

"Besides, it's not fully light yet, and Master is probably still resting. We shouldn't disturb him."

She thought for a moment, then went back to the bedside. She picked up the blanket that had fallen to the floor, shook it out, folded it neatly, and placed it at the foot of the bed. She put the pillow back in its place, patted it to make it fluffy again.

Then I picked up the book "Wind God Leg" and turned to the first page.

"The Wind God Leg Technique is a unique skill known for its agility and speed. At its highest level, it allows one to move as silently and without a trace as the wind..."

Her gaze moved down line by line, becoming more and more engrossed.

Nie Lingfeng's annotations were written in red ink in the margins, with arrows in some places, circles in others, and words like "Note," "Important," and "Common Mistakes" written in others. She read through the annotations line by line with her fingertips, as if following a map.

Before she knew it, she had started to practice the movements in the room, following the diagrams in the manual.

"Wind God Leg Technique, First Form—Catching the Wind and Shadows!"

She gave a low shout and lightly tapped the ground with her right foot. Not "stepped," but "tapped"—the front half of her foot touched the ground first, her heel slightly raised, and then she exerted force. It was as if an invisible rope had lifted her from above her head, and her body floated forward lightly.

It spun around like a light swallow, stirring up a gentle breeze and drawing a graceful arc in the small room.

"Bang!"

With a dull thud, her knee slammed against the edge of the bed.

The wooden bed frame was hard; when her kneecap hit it, she winced in pain and hissed.

"Ouch!"

Lu Linglong clutched her knee, hopped twice on one leg, rubbed the sore spot with her other hand, and her eyes were a little red. But her eyes sparkled with excitement, like two ignited stars.

"Even though I failed, this feeling... is so interesting!"

She looked down at her knee; the skin was red, but not broken. She rubbed it, and the pain subsided.

He stood up again and continued practicing.

"Catching the wind and grasping the shadows" is the foundation—not for attacking, but for moving. Its core is not "speed," but "lightness." Land lightly, turn lightly, change direction lightly.

So, over the next few hours, various noises kept coming from Lu Linglong's room.

There was a sound of something hitting the table—a muffled "thud," followed by a hiss.

There was a sound of kicking against the wall—"bang," like someone punching the wall, followed by "ouch!"

There was a sound of falling—a body fell to the ground with a "thud," followed by a muttered "It's okay, it's okay."

There were also her low-pitched cries of pain and excited mutterings to herself.

Lu Lin, who lives next door, was woken up countless times by the noise.

The first time he was woken up, he rolled over, pulled the blanket over his head, and muttered, "What's Linglong doing up at night?" The second time he was woken up, he sat up, stared at the wall for a while, wondering if something had happened to his sister. The third, fourth, fifth... every time he was about to fall asleep, a noise would come from next door, and his eyes would snap open.

Every time he wanted to go and see what his sister was doing, he would hold back, remembering that she had just become an apprentice and might be cultivating. He put on his shoes, walked to the door, put his hand on the doorknob, paused for a few seconds, then let go and went back to bed.

Turn over and continue sleeping.

Lu Linglong finally stopped when it was broad daylight and the sun shone through the window, casting a bright square on the floor.

She was drenched in sweat, her hair was soaked through and clumps clung to her forehead. The back of her clothes was also soaked with sweat, a shade darker than the rest of her clothes, and against her skin, the outline of her shoulder blades was visible.

But instead of sitting down to rest, she braced herself on her knees and took a few breaths until her heartbeat slowed down. Then she straightened up, walked to the window, and opened it.

The morning sun shone warmly on her face.

Her eyes shone with an astonishing light. It wasn't the light of excitement, but a more inner light, emanating from the depths of her being. Like a lamp that had been covered by a veil, and now the veil had been lifted.